Canterbury tales
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A man there was far deep in thought
This land and others he was of not
What a wardrobe had he of cotton and “nylon”
To me they were rags he did but pile on
She’s a material girl on her pedestal so high
Cluttered with glitter and make up to benign
Drapes in Gucci and Prada such fabrics so fine
Vapid, vein, and clueless while drinking her wine.
